An Unnatural Chemical Attraction
by AnnaRoseMalfoy
Summary: When a stranger turns up on the Weasly's front door and notifies them that Draco Malfoy lead a revolt against the Dark Lord himself,everyone finds it hard believe. This leads to interesting start of their 7th year. 6th yr gap.D/Hr.disregards HBP
1. A Change

The sun was falling behind the horizon. A tall, built teenager sprinted north through dense woods. His black robes trailed on the ground behind him as he slowed to a brisk walk. Dusk was now upon him. He looked over his shoulder anxiously and was relieved to see no movement. His facial features were shrouded by the shadows his hood cast. He surveyed the area and felt he was out far enough away from the protective charms cast over the most famous witchcraft and wizardry school ever built. He quickly turned on his heel and apparated with a telltale crack. He still felt dizzy when he arrived and stumbled through a puddle of water and into the enormous wheat field surrounding him, his exhaustion, unbearable. He eventually arrived at a tall, shabby house known as the Burrow. Forgetting how unwelcome he was there, he knocked on the door and immediately collapsed into unconsciousness.

***

Awaking to a dimly lit living room, the stranger rubbed his eyes. He sat up quickly at the sound of frantic whispers and strained to hear them. The hurried voices were coming from behind a closed door at the other side of the room. He inclined his head as if it would aid his eavesdropping. After listening to the undistinguishable words for several seconds, the teen fell back into the couch, feeling defeated. He clasped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs. He heard the doorknob turn and click, and his eyes darted upwards towards it.

A balding, red headed man meekly stepped in with a plump woman about his age on his arm. Following her were three teenagers. One had unruly black hair and piercing green eyes behind circular rimmed glasses. The boy was known to everyone as The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, noticeable by the telltale lightning bolt scar on his forehead. A tall boy with ginger hair and a girl with a frizzy mane of brown accompanied him. The visitor locked eyes with her. His ominous blue eyes were filled with extreme fear. Her brown eyes mimicked his but an intense anger lingered in there as well. He quickly looked back down at his fingers in fear of similar looks from her colleagues. Mr. Weasly, the man he had come to see, raised his wand. His meek look turned into anger, and rage filled his eyes as they fell upon his left forearm. "You need to get out of my house," he growled.

The unwelcome visitor shook his head. "There's something I have to tell you, and I'm not leaving until you hear me out." His voice was cold, unrelenting, but it held honesty. The others glared but signaled for him to continue. At that moment, a girl, whom he could safely assume was a Weasly, walked in and rested her hand on Potter's shoulder, who glanced at her but did not unfold his tense arms. She looked at the guest; her demeanor, calm. Her eyes were full of curiosity, not hate. Their company turned and spoke, mostly to her. "Draco Malfoy turned."

"Well, no duh, dip-shit. He's always been bad," sputtered the tall boy, red-faced.

"No. I mean he's turned on the Dark Lord. He needs back-up and he ordered me to get you. How long have I been unconscious?" he asked, absorbing courage and a composed feeling from the girl Weasly.

"Only and hour or so," said Harry, his arms dropping his arms to his side.

"Well, we'll need to apparate into Hogsmeade. There's no time. The Death Eaters had a meeting in the castle. Draco, apparently, told the teachers to hide and was just about to signal for an attack when I left. He also said to tell you that the," he paused and shivered. "Horocruxes were all destroyed except for the snake."

_And me,_ thought Harry. Dumbledore's will had arrived earlier this summer. He left Harry but a letter. He deciphered it with a great deal of help from Hermione. They weren't too shocked to find out Harry was the last Horocrux, seeing as he did not have very much luck. None the less, it was still a blow to them. They all agreed not to tell Ginny, though.

"…and Moody plus a bunch of other Aurors are there as well," Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the informant that sent him into them. The Death Eater pulled out a coin the four teenagers recognized from the DA two years earlier, and the girl with the bushy hair smirked. "Apparently, Longbottom has killed the snake with the sword of Gryffindor," informed the boy, awestruck. The trio looked at each other, obviously relieved.

"I know this is not a great time, but if you don't mind me asking, what is your name?" asked the young Weasly girl, curiously.

"Rowland," he smirked. Without another word, she walked up confidently and pulled back his hood, revealing white blonde hair and distinctive high cheekbones.

"You're a Malfoy," the other girl gasped and jumped behind the boys.

"I'm Ginny," the confident one said as she extended a hand. He shook it, hesitantly. "I know this is not really a good time for introduction, but it's necessary and will be done quickly. This is my mum and my dad, my brother, Ron, Hermione Granger, and, of course, Harry Potter." She swept her had across the room. He nodded to each of them and stood up, noticing that wands were no longer pointed at him.

His shaggy hair was blonde like the younger Malfoy, but it was dark at the roots. He pulled his hood back up and walked out the door. "We don't have much time," he called back and apparated with a crack.

The others followed silently, leaving Harry as the last one in the house. "What just happened?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head. He noticed the absences and jogged out the door to catch up with the others.

Everyone arrived at Hogsmeade with a loud crack. Rowland arrived first and Harry last while Ginny apparated with her father. Rowland silently turned to walk up towards Hogwarts as soon as Harry appeared. The cool summer air made the hike to the school scarcely bearable through his thick black robes.

When everyone reached the open, wrought iron gates, he ushered them to stop. He drew his wand and turned towards them, his blue eyes glinting. The atmosphere immediately tensed and fists clenched. "I knew we couldn't trust him," Ron hissed in Harry's ear. When he simply caressed it with both hands, everybody relaxed.

"The wood is ash with a black finish. The core is snake venom. I bought it in Knockturn Alley with my father," he cooed. Hermione looked at him, almost disgusted. "I was produced to be bad. My father molded me to be a Death Eater. My brother showed me the light, and now I shall fight alongside The Boy Who Lived and his friends." He looked up from his wand, eyes blinking back tears. "Thank you," he whispered. His expression filled with sincerity.

With that, he turned away and walked swiftly towards the double doors. His expression was cold, as if that moment had never happened.

He arrived at the front doors and used his wand to swing them open. The others quickly hurried after him, eager to defend their friends. To Rowland, everything seemed to be in slow motion. Jinxes flew around him, narrowly missing him. A killing curse came so close that the motion knocked off his hood. He didn't notice, for he had one destination in mind.

They were dueling at the top of the steps. He had eyes for nothing but them. His accent was becoming more dangerous as more curses flew around notifying him that the others had joined the battle. He reached the top of the stairs, and the grimace on his face would have made a werewolf wet his pants.

He gripped his shoulder which was bleeding profusely as the result of a stray Sectumsempra. His face was decorated with shallow cuts from flying curses, mostly Avada Kedavra. Draco Malfoy was in a heated battle with their father. So concentrated on his youngest son, Lucius didn't notice as his eldest approached. Rowland glanced at Draco, who gave him a curt nod. "Avada Kedavra!" shouted Rowland. It hit his father square in the back. He fell forward at his son's feet. Draco nodded again, a worried scowl imprinted on his face. Draco ran off to help others, and Rowland made his way to the Great Hall. He heard an earsplitting scream escape from Bellatrix Lestrange. An extremely powerful urge to leave Hogwarts' ground washed through him, sending him to his knees. He broke into a cold sweat, and, at that moment, he knew.

The Dark Lord was gone.

They were safe.

He was free.

He looked up, and there stood Harry, triumphant. Several people rushed into the Great Hall, including his brother. Bella was thrown into a wall, at that point in time, causing her to fade into unconsciousness. The walls crumbled as if trying to finish the job. Harry was immediately flanked by tons of volunteers. Rowland looked at Draco across the hall, communicating with him silently.

Everyone began taking seats and started conversing with their loved ones. The losses they sustained were few in number but brutal, none the less. Rowland took a seat to Hermione's right. Her eyes were red and puffy for a reason unknown to him. Draco silently slid onto the bench on his right.

"What happened?" Rowland whispered without taking his eyes off of her.

"Potter gave himself up. Initially, he died, but somehow he survived the killing curse again," his brother hissed into his ear, so as not to be heard. Ginny was whispering comforting words to Hermione even though it was evident she'd been upset, too. The two girls hugged each other, and Rowland looked around to see if he could identify anyone else. A few of his old schoolmates, such as Oliver Wood, were gathered at an old house table.

He turned back to the group he was with and surveyed them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasly were conversing lightly, as if she hadn't just knocked out one of the most feared Death Eater ever known. Harry was still surrounded by people, and Ron looked sourly in his direction. Jealousy was evident in his expression. Rowland looked towards the entrance and saw Professor Severus Snape conversing with the new Headmaster, Minerva McGonagall. Snape fleetingly looked in his direction, and Rowland returned it with a quizzical stare. McGonagall seemed to finalize something. With a parting glance, Snape swept out of the hall.

Rowland turned to his brother who looked solemn and haunted. His face was unusually pale, even for a Malfoy. His cheekbones were more pronounced than they should have been, and he looked way thinner than his normal gangly self. He looked dreadful. Draco was staring off into space with a pained look on his face, and his mind was obviously preoccupied.

Rowland turned his attention toward Hermione, who was looking at him with her head cocked sideways, scientifically. "I thought I only had to put up with one Malfoy," her voice was indifferent because she was merely curious, not angry.

Rowland decided no to be difficult. Then, as he opened his mouth to speak, he had a change of heart. He planted a sneer on his face and cocked his head, mockingly, in the opposite direction. "You're not nearly as ugly as Draco made you out to be. You're worse," he paused for her reaction. "Wanna know why?" he furthered, testing her limits. She crossed her arms and pulled her lips into a pout. "Because," he continued without waiting for an answer. "You're pretty for a Mudblood." He laughed heartily. A grin stretched across his face. Her eyes widened and jaw slackened.

He snickered and shouted at Ron. "Oi, Weasly," he called out, snapping Ron's envious gaze away from Harry.

"Whadoyou want, Malfoy," he growled, sulkily.

"Granger's pretty, isn't she? Or am I on pixie dust?" Ron's ears turned crimson, but he didn't respond. Rowland's amusement at Ron's embarrassment was evident. He heard an angry whisper escape the girl with a furrowed brow who happened to be sitting beside him. "What's that, Muddy?" he leaned in.

"You don't have to call me a Mudblood," she exclaimed furiously through gritted teeth. She uncrossed her arms and reared the right one back. A second of surprise flitted across his features, but he ducked and came up holding his stomach due to laughter. Hermione's hand's momentum caused her to knock down the empty golden dishes. Utter shock filled her face. Rowland was laughing so hard he was nearly gasping for air.

"Aw, you guys are so adorable," he said through pants. Hermione's pout returned, and Ron scowled, all the while, his ears growing a darker red.

They heard a loud thump echo throughout the hall. Eyes flitted about searching for the source. Ginny had fallen from her place on the bench in between the scarlet faced Ron and an angry Hermione and was giggling feverishly.

"I don't see what's so funny," Hermione mumbled through pursed lips. Rowland had stopped his loud guffaws, but an enormous smile was plastered on his face. He offered his hand to the young, fiery haired girl lying on the floor to help her up.

He, then, turned to his brother and heartily thumped him on the back. The younger boy was looking at them, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth.


	2. Unexpectedness

The Malfoy boys stalked up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room. When they reached the top, Rowland exchanged pleasantries with the Fat Lady while the other teen stood by and watched uncomfortably. He recited the password given to them earlier by Hermione, and they stepped through the portrait hole. Draco Malfoy stared uneasily at their surroundings as Rowland flopped heavily on the crimson couch facing a fireplace. The bushy haired Hermione was heard clunking down the stairs to the girls' dormitory; an armload of books obviously adding to the weight of each step. Just as she came into view, Harry scampered down the steps, nearly falling over her.

"Ron! Ron! Guess what?" Harry called breathlessly to the boy, who'd, until now, gone unnoticed by the visitors, sitting in the corner while intensely analyzing the position he was put in by his sister in a game of wizards' chess.

He gave a grunt, not even bothering to look up. Hermione was frowning at Harry while she bent over to gather her book but was disregarded by everyone but an especially observant Draco.

"Rosalie likes you! She told me herself using the DA coins!" Harry smiled broadly. Ron looked up. His expression was unreadable.

"C-c-can we g-go talk to her?" he mumbled recovering from a slight state of shock.

"Why not?" Harry said as he beckoned for him to follow him out the entrance.

"Didn't even finish our game," Ginny slumped back in her velvet chair grumpily. Rowland smiled coyly at her and slipped into Ron's place. Hermione glanced nervously around and hesitantly took the place by Draco who smiled weakly at her. He looked tired and more than worn out.

"What books are those?" he asked shyly. She looked up at him. At his slate grey eyes. Big mistake. For the first time in her life, she actually saw Draco Malfoy. His profiled high cheekbones stuck out further than they should have. His body was thin giving the impression of malnourishment. Still, his arm muscles bulged through his tattered Hogwarts uniform. His skin was pale; it was a huge contrast to the grays and blacks of his outfit. His light hair was not slicked back he'd given that up one or two years ago, but rather it fell in front of his eyes the bangs grazing his lashes. It made him look older, maybe early twenties. He was leaning his forearms on his knees and staring distantly into the fire. She caught a glimpse of the grey eyes that drove girls wild. They weren't full of anger and spite or silly fear as she'd always seen them. They were different. Troubled? Disturbed? Almost as if he was a hunted animal. There were several cuts and bruises all over him. Even though she knew this was her longtime enemy, the look in his eyes told her she'd be forgiven just this once, and her mothering instincts immediately kicked in.

Well practiced, she dove right in. "Oh, just some of last year's school books. Er, Malfoy," she stared pointedly at him to make sure he noticed her innocent intentions. "May I take a look at your injuries to maybe help or at least make sure they're not infected?" He nodded faintly in response. She turned to him now sitting with one leg tuck under; the left foot now barely touching the floor. He blinked nervously then took his shirt off, and Hermione allowed the breath to get hitched in her throat momentarily before swallowing hard. Malfoy slid slowly towards her. The small of his back was now touching her right shin.

She gasped as she took in the conditions of his back. With his robe off, which was obviously not on during that battle seeing as it was in one piece, she lightly grazed the three long gashes with the tips of her fingers, and he winced slightly. The wounds were deep and most definitely from Fenrir himself.

She looked away and closed her eyes. Hermione tried to calm her thudding heart. It was bothered by what this boy had gone through. "There's nothing I can do about that right now," she whispered.

He turned and was now facing her. His pale stubble was flecked with blood. It seems he had bothered in washing up.

"It might be infected you know," Hermione choked out while trying to hold back any emotion as she was taught in all of her healing classes. _Don't show any emotion in front of a patient. It's unprofessional, and it unsettles them. _It was drilled into their heads repeatedly.

That's what she wanted to be, ya'know. A healer. Oh, to save those on the brink of death, so rewarding, yet a tiny thought niggled at the back of her mind. _What if I can't help him? Will I fail before I even begin? _She pushed it away and stubbornly continued racking her brain.

Draco looked at her; his eyes were inquiring. Her brow unfurrowed, and her mind turned blank. White. Nothing. Never had Hermione Granger, the smartest student in all of Hogwarts', mind been completely empty, with the exception of being petrified, yet, here, looking into his eyes, she couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. The worst part? It was Draco Malfoy, her enemy from the start, the weak stuck-up little boy who'd made her cry countless times. Then, again, he no longer seemed weak. The hardships reflected in those metallic irises seemed to have defied that theory. And he most certainly was not little. Those words he'd said, even in his first year at this school, kept innocence well beyond his reach.

The blankness unnerved her. She closed her eyes and shook thoughts into her mind.

***

Ron had returned triumphant, thanks to Harry of course, with Rosalie on his arm. Harry had hugged Ginny and apologized for stealing Ron from her in the middle of their game. Ginny and Rowland had long since retired from the board after several rematches. Ginny had come out on top on almost all of them.

Now, Rowland and Ron were battling it out in a mini-tournament while Rosalie watched intently. Harry and Ginny snuggled in the corner, half-watching from across the room. The room had a lighthearted air to it and was alight with laughter. All, except the two on the couch, were conversing with ease.

Hermione was pretending to have her nose in a book about herbs while she was actually stealing glances at the pale boy beside her. Draco stared intently at the wall studying the trimmings and whatnot, and Rowland was observing this particular scene as well as examining his position on the board.

Hermione couldn't get Draco out of her head, but she refused to believe any notion that she falling for him. She was just worried. That's all.

Draco did not seem to look at anyone, or anywhere, in particular, for that matter. He also didn't seem to say anything, quite unlike his brother.

"You never told us why we've never heard of you," Hermione brought up suddenly.

"Well," Rowland's usual grin dimmed. "My father kind of saw me as a disappointment because I was never anything special to the Dark Lord. He tried really hard to keep me a secret. Also, we never went to school together seeing as I graduated the year before you guys came, and I live in my own secluded place away from wizarding communities."

"Didn't your mother try to contact you?" Any trace of a smile that was left, now disappeared.

"I have not seen my mom for quite some time. I recall nothing of her in fact," he replied solemnly. "Although, Narcissa did take very good care of me."

"It's been sixteen years at least! Can't you just call her mom?" Draco snapped abruptly. Rowland just simmered angrily without reply. "I mean, it's done. Over. It's been a long time. I'm sorry, and you know I've already expressed my sympathies, but you've got to get over it," Draco said slightly annoyed.

"It wasn't right! It wasn't fair! At least he had the decency to marry your mom!" Rowland roared.

"Not everything **is** fair. Look, I'm sorry, but mother tried to take you in. You were too prideful, and that's the very trait that kept Lucius from marrying your mother. You and I both know that he wouldn't be caught dead married to a muggle," the younger boy said calmly.

"He didn't have to kill her, though!"

"Thoroughness, I guess," Draco shrugged. Rowland's eyes blazed with anger, and he stomped out of the room into a chamber set aside for them.

The common area silenced. Not a single word was uttered for several seconds. "I apologize for causing such an uproar," Hermione sliced through the atmosphere with her words. Draco grunted and shook his head dismissingly. Ginny and Harry said goodnight and separated. Ron was at the boy's heels and Rosalie at the former's. "Where are you going to sleep tonight?" Hermione asked pausing at the first step up to the dormitory.

"Couch'll be best," the younger brother replied.

"Again, I'm really really sorry," she said.

"No worries. Needed to be out in the open anyways."

"Night," she said as she retreated up the steps.

"Goodnight," he whispered quietly when she was just out of hearing range.

Hermione stopped at the top of the stairs with her hand on the knob. She almost went back down to keep him company.


	3. Fighting and A Blissful Night

**A/N: Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!! I know I haven't updated in, like, a month. I apologize profusely…however, I do need some incentive. Maybe, reading and reviewing? Anyways, I've been really busy, and I'll honestly try to stick to a schedule. Meanwhile, I recommend fics such as "Be Careful What You Bet On" and "Love, Lust, and Draco Malfoy" and "The Bracelet" which is incomplete but will have you reading for a while. I'm really sorry, but if you really want me to update sooner, you should r & r. Hey, maybe you could even get your friends to do it, too. ;) Also, I changed my course with the story, but since I have a few reading it…I will continue on. Sorry if it feels weird and is not quite up to your expectations.**

**Disclaimer: Even fantasizing about being JK Rowling, makes me feel fuzzy inside, so, obviously, I'm not her and don't own anything Harry Potter related.**

**Without further ado, the story.**

The five students and Rowland took up residence in the Gryffindor tower, seeing as it was the only place available to them. The rest of the other students who had fought alongside them were currently at their own homes. They had been sent back until the arrival of others and the starting of the school year, apparating with Dumbledore himself.

The four enrolled at the school left briefly to go to Diagon Alley and were heavily guarded by Aurors. They had just returned as Malfoy's Polyjuice Potion was wearing off. The Aurors had decided to disguise him as an extra pre-caution in case there was an encounter with some very vengeful Death Eaters, although, the followers of the previous Dark Lord were fleetingly few.

Things had settled between the two brothers, and the guests got along fairly well. Hermione was up in her room thinking. Whatever brief attraction she'd had for Malfoy, had passed, and, besides, it had been purely physical. She damned him for showing his vulnerability. How she hated him. The look in his eyes made her melt. She cursed her hormones. With that momentary lapse of judgment, she'd forgotten _who he was._ This was Draco Malfoy they were talking about. Just because he _might_ have changed, doesn't mean she'd forgive all that he'd said and done. She was certainly _not_ a doormat. Curse him for making her forget, even if it was only temporarily. She absolutely despised him. That moment meant nothing to her, and it should be the same for him.

She unclenched her fists which had balled up of their own accord and went downstairs brooding. She sat down heavily on the couch beside Ron who, most unsubtly, put his arm around her. Malfoy stood up and clamped his hands together.

"Everyone's here. Good. As the girl Weasly, here, was smart enough to discover, unlike the rest of you, I was under a controlling spell. It was obviously cast during the battle." _Was he _honestly_ that self-preserving that he felt the need to explain? To them, of all people! _This made her hate him all the more. "Otherwise, I would have_ never_, under any circumstances, let a Mudblood touch me in any way. I spoke to Professor Dumbledore, and he removed it immediately. Sorry for the misunderstanding," he sneered.

He put all the malice he could into that one sneer. He absolutely COULD NOT have Granger and the rest of them thinking he was weak. He'd decided that as soon as the school year started, he'd make her life a living hell. He couldn't see why he shouldn't. She topped him in every class and was not even the least bit hesitant to rub it in his face. He couldn't stand her. He even…no, he didn't hate her. He was not capable of harboring such feelings. Even if he was a spiteful, nasty, mean, wicked teenage boy, he did not hate her. Yes, she was less than him, an inferior to him and all of his friends. He still didn't hate her. He despised her, though. With an intense passion, you might add. She was a rude and always had on the act of Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes when everyone knew she wasn't. She'd probably even slept with Krum in fourth year. The thought of a famous Quidditch seeker actually wanting _her _made him shudder. Alas, once again, he did not hate her, though.

If Potter were to believe that Draco had soft side, he'd never hear the end of it. That's why he absolutely had to bring it up.

"Really? Are you sure you aren't just weak?" Damn her, and all her frizzy-headed aggravating-ness.

She'd done that just to get on his nerves. He didn't even attempt to hide his anger. The others quickly scattered. Relief had flooded her when she learned he was under a spell. At least he wasn't smitten or something terrible like that. His fists were tight, and she stood up in defiance.

"You muggle-born son of a…"

"Ahem. I'm a girl thank you," she was enjoying this thoroughly. She knew he wouldn't do anything to her. He'd never had the balls to.

"Whatever. Listen, bitch, I won't have you smarting off to me like that, or, so help me God, you will pay. You'll hurt so bad you'll wish…"

She pretended to yawn loudly enough to cut him off. "I've heard this all before," she said with a bored expression. He stepped towards her until he was deadly close. She shrunk back slightly, showing how clearly uncomfortable she was with the distance. His breathing was rapid and shallow. His eyes were ablaze with what she could only guess was hate.

"I wasn't finished yet," his voice was deadly and low. It was almost dripping with venom. "I _will _get you, and, trust me, you won't see it coming. It's going to hurt. Bad."

Hermione was scared, but she wasn't about to show it. She decided she'd take her chances. Anger over-powered her. "What's a snotty pureblood brat like you going to do to me when I'm on the good side, and you are clearly not?"

"This." She had no time to think before his lips crashed into hers. It was forceful. She hated it. She hated him for crying out loud. She tried to shove him away. His arms wrapped around her pulling her in closer, and he sought to deepen the kiss without any permission. She'd completely underestimated his strength. He was rough with her while she was trying to squirm away from him. Finally, he broke apart but did not let go of her.

"What the _FUCK_ was that for?" She tried to hit him, but her arms were uselessly trapped at her sides.

"I figured it was the best way to punish you," he grimaced and shivered convulsively as the thought of what he'd just done hit him. He couldn't resist. He knew that she would be disgusted, and the thought of that was too tempting to deny. Now, he just wanted to hit himself. He released her and was genuinely surprised when she didn't immediately run away to her dorm to sulk. Instead, he tensed up readying himself for a good, hard smack to the face. He shut his eyes and looked away, preparing for the worst. When she hadn't done anything for several seconds, he peeked to see a death stare coming from her. He guessed it was to be expected. She really wasn't the physical type except for in third year when she broke his nose.

He stared at her; willing her to do something. When nothing happened, he made up his mind. "Off to bed now, Granger. Shouldn't have muggle-born like you up past their bedtime." Her lips tightened. Her cheeks flushed, and she frowned. She turned to leave and thought better of it. As soon as she was fully turned around again, she smacked him with all her might. He hissed in annoyance and at the slight sting of it. He swore he saw her smirk as she turned to go up the stairs. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was only nine and was quite pleased that he'd sent her off like that.

Ready for some peace and quiet, he retrieved a book and sat down on the sofa to read for a bit.

* * *

When nobody had returned to the common room by ten thirty, Draco decided to go to bed. His right cheek was a dull red and was still quite tender. He went to the room that was to be shared by him and his brother. Upon entry, he was taken aback. He couldn't possibly think who would use a room such as this and came to the conclusion that it was probably for guests. There were four queen sized beds, each with a canopy and sheets to correspond with each of the houses. There was a blue covered bed with a silver material as the canopy, and a raven was carved into the headboard. Rowland had obviously decided to occupy this bed, for there were clothes strewn across the ground around it while the sheets were messed up. They were aligned in a half circle; the foot of the beds facing outward towards the door he'd just entered through. To his left, directly across from the Ravenclaw bed, was the Slytherin bed which he would take for himself. The canopy was black while the sheets were a dark green. To the right beside his was the Gryffindor bed, red sheets, gold canopy. To the right of that, Hufflepuff, yellow with black. Then Ravenclaw. Slytherin and Ravenclaw were closest to the door, the entrance door, that is.

There was a door in between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. He could only assume they were both bathrooms. Between the red and yellow beds, the wall was decorated with school flags and such. The ceiling was extremely high and was decorated to the top with pictures, newspaper clippings, ect… In a glass case, very high above every bed, was a trophy, each with a label that matched up with the house's bed it was above. On the plaque was a name, and then it disappeared only to reveal a new one. Draco was curious but unusually tired and made up his mind to ask the Headmaster about it in the morning. It would undoubtedly make a good story.

Draco stripped down to his dark green boxers and lay down on the bed. As he did so, the curtains drew closed. As he pulled the covers up, stars appeared around him. He felt a gentle breeze float across his body. Every muscle he had seemed to relax in a way he had never experience before. It was mind-blowing. He was too exhausted to dwell on it, though. Relishing magic and its amazing powers, especially to enhance sleep, he drifted off into a light and pleasant dreamland.


End file.
